


Soiled

by Methoxyethane



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftercare, Desperation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, No Sex, Omorashi, Wetting, even tho no real D/S
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 23:26:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12221115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Methoxyethane/pseuds/Methoxyethane
Summary: Keith holds it in. Lance is there to clean up the mess he makes.





	Soiled

**Author's Note:**

> Written on commission for an anonymous friend

The distress call they answered was not _technically_ a trap, but might as well have been. So many Galra ships were swarming the planet it was like trying to swat at gnats, and Keith barely even knew how to FLY Black at this point much less wipe out a fleet of fighter ships. At this point he didn’t even know if it had been four hours or six or what, but the frustration of the endlessness of this battle was wearing on everyone, their normally playful banter turning increasingly snide as the battle dragged on.

Keith, for his own part, had a different problem added onto this stress entirely. A pressure deep inside his body, growing so intense it was hard to focus on anything that wasn’t that feeling. Sometime hours ago towards the start of the battle he’d realized he needed to piss, and now it was becoming so bad it was honestly distracting him in battle.

It was, he was pretty sure, the stupidest problem anyone had ever had. It hardly stopped it from being legitimate though, his body desperately trying to signal him to the oncoming disaster with the ache in his lower belly. It was impossible to ignore no matter how hard he tried to keep his mind on the fight, the issue of a full bladder somehow a more pressing concern than any flesh wound he’s ever had. Every shot he took, every maneuver he flew and every ship he took out came with the fresh recurrence of the thought: ‘ _Fuck, I need to pee._ ’ It was goddamned _ridiculous_.

Not like he had any choice but to hold it in. These Lions weren’t designed for species so inefficient they couldn’t even control their excretions, there was no toilet and nothing remotely as lucky as an empty water bottle. The longer this all went on the more stressful it become through, hours of trying to ignore it turning the irritant into something genuinely physically painful.

His bladder was so full it ached, and Keith wanted nothing more than for this to go away so he could FUCKING focus on this battle he was trying not to die in. Could he cross his legs while flying Black? Because he wanted to. He was pretty sure he was dying here.

Quite generally, if this had been three months ago when he’d been back in Red, Keith would have given up by now. This was war for fuck’s sake, this was total absolutes and life-or-death moments, a little humiliation and discomfort from soiling himself right there mid-combat was more than worth it if he fucking lived through the battle. If he died his corpse would piss all over the seat anyway, right?

But this wasn’t Red. He and Red had had the kind of bond where he wouldn’t have had to worry about anything but a quick bleach and an apology, but Black was a different matter entirely. She barely even fucking flew in the direction he needed her to as it was, if he literally PISSED all over her?! She’d lose any last shred of respect she had for him and probably shut down right there, dead in space! Eject him right out of her mouth like spitting out a wad of gum, this disgusting creature who had the nerve to urinate inside the cockpit of the universe’s most powerful weapon.

And not to mention this had been -still was, damn it - _Shiro’s_ Lion. He’d be fucking pissing all over Shiro’s grave! When they found him again and he finally returned to the head where he belonged, he’d be sitting in the exact spot Keith had wet himself like a toddler and Keith would always know and the humiliation and shame would eat him out from the inside until he DIED. Fuck, even if they DIDN’T find him Keith would never be able to sit in here again, Shiro was the only person who’d been there for Keith and he’d be - he’d have…! All over his…!

Keith’s hands were shaking from how hard he was gripping the controls, his vision starting to blur the chaos in front of him until his vision was nothing but a field of static; constant flickering movements and colors he couldn’t possibly hope to focus on. This was stupid. This was so **stupid** , how was something this ABSURD happening to him? Why was this happening right now, why was this battle dragging on so long, why couldn’t he just keep ignoring it like he had been for the last three hours and _concentrate_?

A burst of enemy fire shot up his left side, not enough to do any real damage but enough to force his Lion to spin out. Keith had to fight her for control again, a delayed strike back that only had the good fortune of taking out the enemy’s ship because of a pilot of insufficient skill. There were already more taking its place but the pressure on his bladder was still urgently prodding at him, and Keith felt an involuntary little whimper escape his throat as he slammed his thighs together and tensed the entirety of his groin muscles, all he could do to make sure nothing slipped while he was busy rearing on Black’s controls for a blast of plasma from her Mouth Cannon.

Keith didn’t even really see when they exploded, too preoccupied by twisting his legs to slide his thighs against each other, determined not to stay still for fear that it would relax him too much and he’d have an accident. He wanted to run his hands through his hair, wanted to shove one hand down against his crotch to help hold it in, or maybe tuck a foot underneath himself so he could press his groin against his own heel. But his hands were full with Black’s controls and he didn’t have a limb to spare, had to keep it in through sheer willpower but the only way to do that was to concentrate and if he concentrated on THAT he wouldn’t be able to fight this fucking space battle!

He jerked on the controls to pull up out of the collision course he realized he’d set himself in, dodging an oncoming ship by inches and taking another hit for it. The surprise jostle of his body was enough for a few droplets to leak out without his permission, and Keith realized with horror he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to hold it until the end of his battle no matter how hard he tried. So far only the only damage was to the inside of his underwear, but he couldn’t let that happen again, another accident of any kind no matter how small would no doubt burst the dam just out of the force of Keith’s despair.

Oh shit. Oh shit, he was losing it. He was losing his mind for a reason as stupid as needing to PEE of all things and he was gonna get himself and everyone else killed.

He couldn’t afford to untense his body even for a second at this point, he couldn’t let himself slip up and make a mess of Black. And he couldn’t afford NOT to relax either, because the battle was heated and endless and the mothership was flying into view, a huge shadow rolling over the planet’s landscape as it passed overhead.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck, he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do any of this, Keith was gonna piss all over Black and then she was gonna reject him and he was such a fucking failure he was going to lose this entire goddamned WAR, he was the only one Black would let inside and he still wasn’t good enough, would never be good enough -

“Keith?” Hunk’s voice broke in, obviously concerned. “Are you - what’s that noise? Did you get injured in there, or is there something else in your cockpit that sounds kind of whiny and squeaky?”

Keith’s face burned hot with embarrassment, realizing he’d been concentrating so hard on his bladder and on Black he’d let a series of truly pathetic noises of desperation start to escape and GREAT, now he had to focus on making sure no one else knew he was freaking out on top of all of the other things he was worrying about!

He managed to find something to say to reassure Hunk, though Lord knows what it actually was. Keith couldn’t think straight anymore, had no idea how much longer this went on for, but he knew the others were all slowly noticing something was wrong with him. His reactions were too slow and as much as he tried to muffle them, tried to bite down on his lip until it bled, there was no stopping the helpless little groans that let loose every time he took a hit and his body jerked in his seat, forcing him to tense up for fear of another leak.

In his mind, Keith had tangled together his fears until the issue of holding his pee in became life or death - failing on this would be failing everything, the second he let go he was gonna get them all killed. Wetting himself right now would be letting the entire universe down, deprived of Voltron just because Keith was such a FUCK up he couldn’t even stop himself from pissing all over it.

“We can’t go on like this!” Allura’s voice cut into his helmet sharply. “We have to form Voltron, it’s the only way we shall be able to take that Cruiser down!”

She was, Keith knew with impending horror, absolutely right. The others were already breaking out of their fights to fly into formation behind Keith, and he realized that with their minds connected there would be no way the others wouldn’t be able to figure out not just THAT something was wrong, but exactly _what_.

Oh god as if this wasn’t humiliating enough just for KEITH to know about it, adding this - synchronizing his mind with the other four - he was fucked _fucked_ **fucked** , not only was Black gonna lose all respect for him but now everyone else would too, would look at him and remember the time he pissed himself in his cockpit and never be able to look him in the eye or take him seriously again.

He was gonna fuck this up. He was gonna fuck this up for everybody and it was already too late, because their Lions were attaching to his and their heartbeats were all synching up and Keith STILL couldn’t think of anything other than ‘ _keep it in, keep it in, keep holding it!_ ’

The second they’re all united, Keith knew this was a mistake. Everyone could feel his distress and his shame, and he was hit back by a wave of their own emotions to know exactly how each of them thought. Embarrassment and sympathy and confusion were all added onto his own despair, a tangled mix of negativity that froze Keith sold and probably would have gotten them killed by a laser blast if Pidge hadn’t brought up their shield for him without his command.

“Keith…” He could feel the concern as much as hear it in Lance’s voice. There was also the sensation of something like encouragement, gentle and affectionate as a husband would be and not the boyfriend-of-three-weeks he actually was. “Just… relax, okay? We’re all here for you and we’re not gonna hate or abandon you, no matter what happens.”

Keith wanted to cry. Wanted to and possibly was already, because his eyes were clouding up with tears and his breath was shuddering in his chest because Lance _knew_. He could tell exactly what was wrong even if not all of the others had figured it out, and Keith was so mortified and so fucking undeserving of Lance’s softness.

He managed to pull himself together long enough to dive back into the battle, repeating an internal mantra of platitudes like ‘you can do this, it’s all about control, you are IN control,’ and other absolute lies just for the sake of distracting himself from his own panic.

It was true just long enough to coordinate Lance cutting through the enemy battleship with Voltron’s sword. After the big ship went down it wasn’t much of a chore to sweep through the others, Hunk’s Shoulder Cannon showering through the enemy lines until ships were falling out of the sky like hailstones.

Keith broke them apart pretty much the instant it was safe to, too horrified by the idea of sharing that mental bond and projecting his bodily issues all over Voltron’s mind link for a second longer. And then of course he realized that TOO had been a mistake, because there was now the issue of getting **home**.

The battle ending did not mean Keith was allowed to relax. They were still lightyears away from any toilets and it had become no less detrimental that he NOT wet himself just because they wouldn’t all die this exact second because of it. He’d still be rejected by Black and he’d still be failing Voltron and he still wouldn’t be able to look any of his teammates in the eye again - fuck, if he could even do that if he DID hold it, now that they’d all seen into his head.

If they’d stayed in Voltron, getting back to the castle would have been so, so much faster. But they’d flown in from fairly far off in hopes of making a surprise attack and the long fight had dragged them even further out still, and even though another fifteen minutes wasn’t realistically that much time it was fifteen minutes of sitting here with nothing to do but feel his body screaming at him. Keith was so fucked. He was such a fuck-up and he was so, so FUCKED.

He could do this. Just a little longer he repeated to himself, now flying one-handed so that he could sit on his other hand, shoved between his squirming legs. Just a little longer and he’d be home and out of Black and everything would be _okay_. He’d almost made it, just a Little. Bit. _More_.

Except that the adrenaline from the battle was wearing off, and the more it did the more impossible it became to hold it in. He could feel himself failing already, little spots of wetness on the inside of his underwear and pressing against his own skin that only made desperate to try and keep it all in. His eyes were still watering with tears and he knew he was still whimpering - maybe even more than before, but wasn’t in any mind to try to care when he had to keep his entire body so tense he was shaking from head to toe.

It wasn’t until they’d all landed in the hangar that despair truly took over.

Everything had taken too long, and Keith realized that the second he stood up, that would be all it took. Just being jarred in his seat had made him slip up enough to soil his underwear in little spots, just the act of standing up would be too much and he’d still piss himself before he even got out of Black and it would all be for nothing, the hours of pure torture he’d endured all wasted because he couldn’t even keep his own body under control. God, he was so unworthy of being her paladin, why was he even allowed INSIDE?

The longer he sat here worrying about it the worse it would get though. It was okay, he told himself. He just had to get up, and then get to a bathroom, which there were not any of nearby, and then also get off all his paladin armor so he could reach the zipper on the back of his suit and take THAT off and oh jesus fucking christ there was no way he’d make it that long.

He wanted to cry in frustration. He wanted to cry and he just wanted to fucking take a piss damn it, why why _why_ did he have to fuck everything **up**?

Well. Not like he had any choice but to fucking _try_ , right? Keith took a deep, deep breath, tensed every part of his body from his crotch out, and bolted into standing upright; practically launching himself out of Black and throwing his helmet off behind him as he went.

He hit the ground running. His moment of delayed panic in there had given everyone enough time to leave the space empty, and Keith ran for the elevators and _prayed_. Except that the hangar was not completely abandoned after all, and a long arm was reaching out stop Keith in his tracks, nearly tripping in his efforts to not to let himself get clotheslined and topple to the floor.

Lance’s hand landed firmly on Keith’s shoulder, as if to hold him down and prevent him from dashing off. “Slow down,” he said seriously. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“Lance,” Keith pleaded, bouncing a little on his toes in his unconscious efforts to keep holding it. “Come on, I gotta go Lance.” Jesus, why was Lance stopping him when he was so _close_?

He was about to jerk Lance’s hand off and walk away - or waddle away in this case, until his boyfriend spoke again. “Keith, the nearest bathroom is at least another five minutes away, and you’re still fully clothed. You’re not gonna make it.”

Keith whimpered, eyes going watery again as Lance stepped closer. Oh fuck, it was true. Even if he made it all the way there, the moment he saw the toilet his brain would associate and he’d let loose before he got any of his clothes off. He’d still end up wetting himself no matter what happened, it was all fucking _useless…_

The hand on Keith’s shoulder slipped around to the back of his neck, where Lance gently pulled him to rest his head on Lance’s shoulder. His other hand landed on Keith’s hip, holding him close without quite being close enough for their bodies to be touching. “You’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep this up, sweetie. You have to let go.”

Let go? Was he serious? Right _here_? That was.. That was insane! He had to at least TRY to get to a damned bathroom, didn’t he? Anything less would be shameful! He wasn’t a fucking child, damn it!

“I can’t,” he pleaded instead of saying this, because that was the best he was capable of right now. “Lance, I _can’t_.”

“You can,” Lance assured him softly. “It’s okay, baby. You have to let what’s gonna happen happen. No one’s gonna think any less of you.”

“ _I can’t,_ ” he repeated, pleading. He had to try; he couldn’t fail, it didn’t matter what kind of pressure he was under he just couldn’t let _go_. “Lance, you don’t understand.”

Lance’s head was right next to his, practically whispering straight into Keith’s ear. “I really do, though, Keith, and you’re gonna hurt your kidneys like this. Come on. It’s _okay_ , I promise.”

It wasn’t. It wasn’t okay, how could it be _okay_? “Your legs,” he tried desperately, body shaking and voice choking up with a sob. “I’ll get us both dirty.”

“I don’t mind,” Lance promised softly. “We’ll just clean it all up.” His voice was gentle and firm, reassuring and commanding all at once as he ordered one more time, “Let **go** , Keith.”

It was ridiculous. It was an insane thing to ask of Keith, an insane time to give up when he was so much closer to a bathroom that he’d ever been, but…

The tears were what broke first, the dampness he was holding into the back of his burning eyes finally giving way to stream down his face with the sound of one long, pathetic sob. It took another second or two after that for his body to give up, too, all of the tension releasing first from Keith’s spine as he slowly let himself relax. It was only after the tightness had released from all of his muscles that his insides released too, and then another second still until the stream started.

“Good boy,” Lance praised, as hot wet trail started down Keith’s thigh, and the mix of his emotions was completely overwhelming. “I’m right here with you, just let it all out for me now.”

The humiliation bled into his relief until it was drowned out by it, the euphoria of finally letting out about four hours of physical and mental strain drain out of him feeling so good that for a few blessed seconds the shame didn’t even _matter_. The release felt as intense as an orgasm with a similar resulting wetness, except that for an orgasm the pleasure was like, **actual** and only for a few seconds and his was more just pure relief and  currently lasting considerably longer.

The urine kept streaming out of him long enough that it was starting to puddle on the floor at his feet, and okay now he was back to being more humiliated then relived again. He was really ready for this to just be _over_ already, but Lance was petting the back of his head and still softly encouraging him, “You did so well, baby, I’m so proud of you,” and somehow, Keith felt like even sobbing and pissing all over him might be forgivable.

When it was all over the word ‘drained’ didn’t even begin to describe how he was feeling. To spite his best efforts to keep their bodies separate Keith was slumping bonelessly against Lance with one last shudder and silent sob, letting his lover hold up his entire body weight.

Somehow, when it was all done, there was no humiliation left. Keith didn’t really feel ANYTHING right now really, a strange emptiness that left his mind pleasantly blank and his body loose in Lance’s arms, so much so that he didn’t even care or think to protest when the other paladin swooped him up into his arms to carry him towards the emergency chemical showers in the hangar bay.

It was only as he saw it that Keith remember himself enough to protest, too exhausted to do anything more that curl his fingers into the fabric of Lance’s jumpsuit and pitifully complain, “The floor…”

“It’s okay,” Lance reassured him. “We’re gonna get you cleaned up enough to be able to make it all the way to the bathhouse, and we’re gonna take a nice long bath together. I’ll take care of the mess.”

“We can’t leave it,” Keith insisted. Lance knowing what happened was one thing, if anyone stumbled across that puddle…

“I said I’ll take care of it,” Lance repeated. “I’m not that dirty, so I don’t mind waiting until we get to the baths. I’ll clean up while you rinse off and then we’ll go upstairs together, okay?”

Keith nodded weakly, relaxing again into Lance’s arms until such time as he was forced to stand upright again.

Technically the shower down here was meant to sterilize potential hazards they might run into in space, but as far as he was concerned right now that just meant he didn’t have to bother taking off his paladin armor yet and then have to carry the soiled clothing all the way back to his room. It didn’t really do much of the way of making his skin feel any less gross but at least now he’d be able to walk down the hallways without fear of running into a friend and them getting a show of his wet pants thank you very much; although by the time he and Lance were on their way out Keith couldn’t truly claim to care anymore.

By comparison to the sterile rinse, the bathhouse was downright palatial. Then again this WAS a palace when you thought about it, so it made sense they’d have big-ass luxurious baths, full steaming hot water with more than enough room for two people to get comfortable and an array of floral-scented amenities.

Keith wasn’t normally a huge fan of baths, he tended to get antsy and bored and get out before he even got pruney. But today was a whole different matter, and he was more than content to stew in warm water with Lance at his back, letting talented hands Keith was becoming increasingly familiar with massage shampoo into his scalp and wash his back.

Sometime after they had slipped into the water Lance had started speaking again, picking up once again with the gentle praises from before. Keith melted a little more, so worn out he couldn’t do anything but believe Lance when he told Keith he hadn’t lost any respect for Keith because of this and loved him just as much as he had this morning.

He even started to believe it when Lance promised the same for Black, that this incident wouldn’t cast a permanent pall on their relationship and that he was perfectly worthy to be her paladin. That no matter how much he struggled he wasn’t going to drag them all down, assured Keith that there was no way for him to single-handledly lose this war for them, no way to let them down that the others couldn’t pick back up and make up for.

It was when he promised Keith that he wasn’t alone anymore that he’d started crying again. But the tears came silently and Lance still at his back, both arms wrapped around Keith’s waist where the tears would be indistinguishable from the bathwater on his face. So he let it all happen, let himself silently shake in Lance’s arms and cling to them until he was leaving red crescent nail bites into Lance's forearm. Let Lance tell him that he had a family now, let him promise Keith that they’d pick him up when he fell down and all bear his weight together because that’s what a family does. Maybe even believed it, maybe even believed that things would be okay, that he wasn’t going to let everyone down and get them all killed. Maybe even believe it was because they all loved him.

He didn’t know when the strange hollow feeling changed, the emptiness inside him somehow turning light and refreshing instead of feeling like he’d been carved out from the inside. His bones were made of helium and his brain was made of cotton and his skin was made of jelly, an unnameable pleasant cloudiness that he carried with him for the rest of the night.

Keith slept better that night than he had in months.

\--

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